


These Hands

by wordsarelifealways



Series: Insomnia [5]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dissociation, Hurt/Comfort, Hyposensitivity, Insomnia, Isak with Aspergers, M/M, Second Degree Burns, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 10:59:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12816075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsarelifealways/pseuds/wordsarelifealways
Summary: Isak hasn't slept for a week and has completely detached from his body, but he needs to find his way back.





	These Hands

**Author's Note:**

> This is 3k of angst and hurt/comfort that just sort of happened RIP it's written in response to this prompt I was sent on tumblr forever ago: "I was wondering if you could maybe write something where Isak hurts himself? Intentionally or unintentionally because he's so overwhelmed or worked up about something."
> 
> There is a description of the burn, but I don't think it's too graphic? However: this fic MAY be triggering for some, so PLEASE proceed with caution.
> 
> I was torn between putting this in Insomnia or Isak With Aspergers, as it is part of both rightfully, but Isak's lack of sleep is what caused all of the events in this fic so it went into Insomnia. Hyposensitivity (under sensitivity to stimulus) is quite common in people on the ASC spectrum and that's what Isak is experiencing (onset by high stress levels and his lack of sleep). He wasn't trying to hurt himself, he was just trying to feel his body again, but due to the nature of the incident I AM tagging this with self-harm.

Isak was going to be dead before he even got to university, he had realised.  He was chill with it if he was honest.

He was actually pretty chill with everything right now, considering.

For the past few months he had been working nonstop on assignments and exam prep and university applications as well as working as many hours as the shop would give him _on top_ of trying to take part in at least _some_ russ activities.  The boys had joked about going all in on a bus just to wind up Jonas, but none of them were actually dedicated enough to bother with it (much to Vilde’s horror).

Basically: Isak couldn’t remember a moment of his life in recent memory where his nose hadn’t been in a book or a fake smile hadn’t been plastered on his face at work so that he looked ‘more approachable’ as the manager had said to him, and it had finally got to him.  Honestly, he was impressed that he had lasted so long before he snapped.

In the last five days Isak had probably slept about two hours combined.  It was chill, though, because in the time he hadn’t been able to sleep he had slogged through more revision and exam prep and one night he’d even organised all their clothes so that Even woke up to a considerably tidier flat than he had fallen asleep in.

He knew Even was worried.  No matter how many times Isak waved him off and reassured him that he was fine, Even just kept frowning at him and trying to put him to bed like a small child.  And, yes, Isak _would_ like some sleep but he didn’t need Even to fuss over him like a nanny.

But it was all good now.

Isak had ascended past tiredness and exhaustion to a level of tired he rarely reached.  He couldn’t feel his face, nor could he really feel any of his extremities, and his brain was running at a snail’s pace way behind his body.

Today, at least, Isak had a rare Saturday off.  Even didn’t have the day off, but he had offered to dash home on his lunch break which Isak had thought was sweet considering how shit the weather had been all week.  Even was going to brave it all just to spend time with _him_.

Isak had decided to repay that gesture with one of his own: having a nice lunch ready for Even when he got back home.  Isak had dozed on and off for what was becoming his standard hour of nightly rest, but he was sure he could manage something simple like heating up leftover stew from the night before on the stove.

So that was what he did.

And sure: if he stood up too quickly everything went sparkly behind his eyes before it greyed out, but it was fine.  Logically he knew it was a combination of dehydration and exhaustion, but he liked to think he was seeing the vastness of the universe behind his tired eyes.  He just had to move slowly and carefully while he sorted their lunch out and everything would be fine.

He dumped all the stew into their big pot and cranked the stove to the right temperature, and set up his revision on the nearby counter so he could stir the pot without interrupting his studying (also so he didn’t fall asleep in a chair and burn the flat down, but mostly the stirring thing).

He had spent so long stressing about everything; now that his mind had snapped the resulting absence of any emotion at all on all the work he had been so focused on felt strange.  It was a welcome change though.

Isak would take this blatant dissociating over the near-fatal levels of anxiety he had been experiencing lately.  Sure: he felt like he was existing outside of his body, wasn’t 100% sure that he actually existed, and kept forgetting chunks of time, but at least his heart didn’t feel like it was going to explode out of him at any second.

 He was chill.

He was _so_ fucking chill.

Nothing was real.  It was all a construct made by humans to make the mere fact of existence seem more purposeful and bearable.  None of it was real.

But some slow voice that felt like it was trying to scream through the void of Isak’s mind was saying that he should keep studying, to ground himself to the physical world.  He used to do something else to ground himself, but he couldn’t remember what.  Some distant part of him was screaming to cling onto something – _anything_ – so that he didn’t get lost in the ebb and flow of the universe.  He had a physical body somewhere; he needed to find a way back to it somehow.

So he folded his arms across the counter and tried to actually _read_ his revision cards while the stew heated nearby and he tried to find a way back to his body.

***

Even was so fucking worried.  He had been fucking up orders all morning because he just couldn’t stop thinking about Isak.  He knew his boyfriend was up to his eyeballs in stress and responsibilities and that his sleeping had gone to shit again, but ever since yesterday something had shifted in Isak.

Somehow the new something was worse than the crippling anxiety attacks, which Even never thought he’d say.  This was much quieter; it was almost as if Isak had mentally checked out of his body and it terrified him.  It scared Even so much that when he was told it was his turn to go on lunch he ran straight out of the door to go back home.

The second he got to the front door he knew something was wrong.

Every single hair on his body stood on end and his hand shook so badly that he almost dropped his key twice while he unlocked the door.  As soon as it swung open Even wished he could close it again.

There was the most awful burning smell permeating through their flat.  Even was no stranger to the smell of burnt food, but this was unlike anything he had ever smelt in his life.

“Isak?” He called out, dread settling in his stomach as he slunk inside.  He caught a glimpse of curls in the kitchen and darted inside, his stomach turning over sickeningly at the sight in front of him.

Isak was staring blindly down at the stove, his hand pressed to the hot plate.

The smell tainting their home was Isak’s _burning skin_.

He was pretty sure he was going to be sick, but he had to move Isak first.  He shot across the kitchen faster than he had ever moved in his life and wrenched Isak back from the stove, trying not to look at the skin left behind on the stove.

Isak stumbled back with him and the added momentum had Even falling on his ass with Isak on top of him.

“What the _hell_ are you doing?!” Even yelled as he sat up, hauling Isak into a sitting position with him.  He was pretty sure his heart was going to explode from the sudden adrenaline.

“I had to get back.” Isak sounded so far away and Even wasn’t sure if it was just because he felt like he was about to pass out.

“Get back _where_?” Even asked as he grabbed for Isak’s wrist.  He didn’t really want to see the state he knew it would be in, but it wasn’t like there was anyone else around to administer his boyfriend’s first aid so Even took a deep bracing breath.

“To my body.” At that Even looked back to Isak’s face.  He still had that checked out look in his eyes, like he wasn’t really there, but he was as white as a sheet.  Even the dark rings that had been under his eyes all week looked paler.  His body had clearly registered the _burning fucking hot stove_ but his brain hadn’t got the message.

That was probably a blessing.

The thought that Isak had intentionally hurt himself, however, was Even’s worst nightmare.  He knew Isak sometimes struggled with hyposensitivity, that there were times when Isak said he couldn’t feel his own body and needed help, but this was different.  Usually Isak sought out sensation, but he had never outright _hurt_ himself to try to feel something.

“Isak, look at your _hand_.” Even wasn’t sure if he was going to cry or throw up first when he turned Isak’s injured hand over.  Sure enough: it was bright red with a good few layers of skin torn off and a blister already bubbling at the edge.

Even cried first.

He had too many emotions in his body and they had to come out somehow.  Tears ran down his cheeks as he helped Isak up – taking care not to put any pressure on Isak’s burn – and took him over to the sink.

“I had to get back to my body.” Isak kept mumbling as Even filled the sink with cool water, his fingers trembling on the tap.  He shouldn’t have left Isak alone today; he fucking knew something was wrong and now look where they were.

“Hand in the water, baby.” Even’s voice cracked painfully and he held Isak’s wrist gently, guiding his limp hand into the cool water.  That was when something seemed to flicker in Isak’s eyes, like a light coming back on inside his head.

“Evy.” Isak looked over at him with more focus than Even had seen from him in days and his stomach clenched with guilt.

“Hey there.” Even tried to smile, but it turned into more of a grimace.  There was really nothing to smile about in this situation as far as Even was concerned.

“I haven’t slept all week.” Isak told him dazedly, his eyes moving slowly between Even’s face and his burnt hand in the sink.

“I know.” Even replied quietly.  He dipped his finger in the water and decided it was time for a fresh dose of cold.  While the now-warm water went down the drain Even made sure that Isak held his palm out under the cold tap.

“I couldn’t feel anything.” Isak was frowning now and Even’s heart sank.  He prayed to every deity he could think of that Isak’s brain was going to keep blocking the pain out even though Isak seemed to be coming back to himself.

“I think I was making lunch?” Isak looked around for confirmation in his surroundings, and when he saw the pot on the stove he looked down and away.  Even thought he caught a glimpse of shame on Isak’s face, and that just made the whole thing worse.

“You’re sick, baby.  You’ve been unwell all week.” Even said gently.  He was amazed at how calm and even he was keeping his voice when inside he wanted to scream and shout that it was unfair that Isak’s brain had failed him so badly.

“Sick in the head.” Isak echoed bitterly.  He tried to tug his hand out from under the water, but Even tightened his grip around Isak’s wrist in response.  Even knew enough first aid to know that Isak’s hand needed to be under that water for _at least_ half an hour.  They had hardly been at the sink ten minutes yet.

“Sick in the head; just like me.” Even tried to joke, but Isak just gave him a hurt look.  “Sorry.  Not the time.” Even apologised quickly, realising that this wasn’t one of those times that Isak took reassurance in the fact that he wasn’t the only unstable one in the relationship.

“I put my hand on the hot plate.” Isak’s lip trembled and Even’s heart sunk impossibly further.  Isak crying was one of the worst things in Even’s world.  “Ev, how am I meant to take my exams when I’m going to have a fucking massive blister on my writing hand?”

“There was a girl in my year who broke her wrist and they gave her a laptop to type her answers instead of writing them; I sure they could do that for you too.” Even reassured him.  Of course the first thing Isak thought about was his damn schoolwork.  Sometimes Even wished he wasn’t so studious.

Even didn’t need to look down to pinpoint the moment Isak looked at his hand properly.  He tracked the path of Isak’s sad green eyes winced at the way Isak’s face crumpled.

“Fuck.” Isak let out a broken little sob and lurched closer to Even, bending his arm awkwardly back behind himself so he could keep his hand under the water while he pressed his face into Even’s chest.

“Okay, angel, I think you need to sit down now.” Even decided when he felt the way Isak’s legs were trembling against his own.  “I’m gonna go get a chair out of the lounge, okay?  I’ll be right back.” He pressed a quick kiss to Isak’s clammy forehead, noting how cold Isak’s skin felt against his lips, before moving away.  He quickly turned the stove off and moved the pot – which, honestly, was a miracle it hadn’t caught fire – before grabbing one of the chairs from their table and bringing it back to Isak.

He sat down and pulled Isak onto his lap, letting Isak adjust his own hand under the cold water now that he seemed more present in his body.

“It hurts, Evy.” Isak was shaking so badly on his lap and Even felt more tears stinging in his eyes.

“I know, angel, I know.  We can take it out from the water soon, okay?  We have burn cream in the first aid box Noora got us, so I’ll bandage your hand up and then we’re making an emergency appointment with your therapist.” Even said.  Isak nodded meekly, his face pressed into Even’s shoulder.

“It hurts so fucking much.  I’m such a fucking _idiot_.” Even could feel the tears soaking into his work shirt and each droplet shattered his heart that little bit more.

“You’re not an idiot; you’re just unwell.” Even disagreed, running his fingers through Isak’s damp curls.  “That’s why we’re going to go back to your therapist and we’ll work out a new way to help you stay on track, okay?  We’re a team.” Even promised.

“I’m sorry.” Isak whispered, his voice thick with more emotions than Even could ever be able to decipher.  He just nodded; he knew how it felt to need to apologise for the stunts you pulled when your brain was all over the damn place.  He knew Isak was sorry for scaring him; all that mattered now was making Isak feel better.

They spent the last fifteen minutes at the sink in silence.  Even was pretty sure that Isak was in shock from his burns, and he was going to have to deal with that, but first he wanted to bandage up the horrendous looking burn on his boyfriend’s hand.  When Even went to get the first aid kit from the other side of the kitchen he heard Isak sniffling behind him but chose to give him that moment of privacy with his emotions.

He remembered to wash his hands at the last second and washed them more thoroughly than he thinks any human has ever washed their hands before he applied the burn cream over Isak’s palm.  It had inevitably blistered more under the water, spanning the majority of his palm.  The insides of his fingers were still a furious red colour and there was a chunk of skin missing from where Isak had, for lack of a better word, melted into the stove.

It looked clean though, so Even patted the worst of the water off as gently as he could before applying one of the burn dressings from the first aid kit and loosely wrapping some bandage around Isak’s palm.

“Baby?” Even knelt down and touched Isak’s cheek, searching his boyfriend’s face.  “How do you feel?”

“Stupid.  And sore.” Isak whispered, his lip trembling again.

“You’re not stupid.” Even disagreed.  He stretched up and kissed Isak’s quivering Cupid’s bow gently.  “But please don’t ever hurt yourself again.  If you get that feeling again just call me, or my mum, or Jonas, just...call someone who’ll find a different way to help you find your way back to your body.” Even swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I’ll try.” Isak promised quietly, looking so fucking ashamed that Even almost lost the ability to breathe.

“I love you, Isak.  We’re going to find the right techniques for you; I promise.  And I’ll be there the whole time.  Not judging you, just helping you.  Because I love you and I know what it’s like to have a brain that fucks you over.” Even squeezed Isak’s knee comfortingly with his free hand.  “For now, though, I think you’re meant to keep burns on your extremities elevated, so…hold your hand up.”

He wasn’t prepared when Isak lurched forwards off the chair, toppling Even over with the force of his hug.

“I don’t deserve you.” Isak was shaking so hard against him that Even was genuinely afraid his boyfriend was going to shatter apart in his arms.

“I wasn’t kidding, Isak.  Elevate your hand.” Even held Isak’s bandaged hand as loosely as he could and raised it above their heads.

“These hands,” Even whispered, tilting Isak’s face up tenderly.  “They hold my _whole_ heart.  So you need to let them heal, because I have no intention of taking my heart back.  It’s yours until I die, and maybe even after that too.” Even murmured, making sure that Isak was looking at him so that he could see how utterly serious Even was about this.

Nothing on god’s green earth was going to stop him from loving Isak.

Not even the prospect of scraping a chunk of his skin off of their stove.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a rough one, I'm sorry D: I love writing angst and hurt/comfort though, which is probably why this ended up being 3k of PAIN. After the end of that scene they do call the therapist and Even takes Isak to the emergency room for shock, because shock is one of the biggest killers.
> 
> Hopefully the next thing I post for you guys won't be this sad RIP
> 
> [the blog](http://isaksredscarf.tumblr.com)


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